


The Smuggler

by Romantical_Cat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantical_Cat/pseuds/Romantical_Cat
Summary: You are a member of a secret organization of like-minded wizards who smuggle information and objects past the watchful eyes of Death Eaters and other sympathizers of the Dark Lord. Now you have been entrusted with an object essential to the Wizarding cause, so precious that even you don't know what it is. Will you see it delivered safely or will Fate have the upper hand?
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. The Cave

The shadows were stretched long on the ground as you pushed back the hood of your long cloak. Tucked beneath your arm was a small parcel, wrapped in innocuous brown paper.

‘Equfors,’ you traced an invisible pattern in the air with your wand, eyes fixed on the shovel that lay on the grass before you. Almost instantly after the word left your mouth the shovel began to rise from the ground, vibrating intensely. A flash of purplish light made you blink. When you reopened your eyes a tall black horse was standing where the shovel had been a moment before, pawing at the ground with a forehoof. 

‘Good, easy…’ slipping your wand back into your coat pocket you stroked the horse’s neck. Its coat was smooth and glossy, and the strands of its long mane caught in the afternoon sunlight. Lightly jumping up onto its back you guided the stallion with your knees and by light touches on its neck. This journey had been made many times, but -- you made sure the package was still safe -- never with anything so precious. 

The stallion’s black tail streamed out in the wind like a swift-flowing river, and the wind roared in your ears like water rushing over rocky falls. It wasn’t long before the illusion was replaced by reality. Your snorting mount halted before a rocky precipice hidden in the midst of the ancient beech forest. A waterfall cascaded down, and if one had a sharp eye they could see that it passed over the mouth of a cave, accessible only by a narrow, moss-covered path. 

You slid down eagerly off the horse’s back. Whispering a few words beneath your breath you watched as, with a mighty shudder, the stallion dwindled back down to a shovel. The handle had a long streak of black in the wood, and it glinted in the dappled sunlight that filtered down through the tree branches. Sparing it only a glance you turned and cautiously followed the path to the cave. Once your foot slipped and you clutched the parcel, your other hand flying out to clutch at the damp rock wall. Heart racing you continued along the ledge until the spray of the waterfall sent droplets of water streaming down your face like tears. 

You slipped into the cave through a narrow space where the cascading water roared over instead of down. Blinking, you waited for your eyes to adjust to the dim light. As they did, the familiar passageways that disappeared into the depths of the hill became visible; well-trodden and waiting for voices and wandlight to bring them to life. Adjusting your cloak and wiping water from your eyes you set the parcel down on a protruding rock and waited. 

The courier who was supposed to have met you was missing. Concern began to grow within you. Either they had been caught or they knew something that you didn’t. 

Time dragged on. 

‘Accio.’ a smooth voice spoke, the word echoing around the cave, and the parcel flew across the room. Standing in the mouth of a passage that led to the surface above the falls, holding the package almost nonchalantly under one arm, was a tall wizard. The light fell on his long blonde hair and defined features that were twisted into a look of smug superiority. ‘Do you know on whose land you have this little… operation?’ 

Panic made you feel sick. ‘Yours, Mr Malfoy.’ It was better not to lie. 

His eyes narrowed. ‘Yes. And this,’ he held up the parcel, curving one finely arched eyebrow as he regarded it, ‘I presume is very valuable.’ His cold grey eyes pierced your own. 

Swallowing, you nodded. 

‘Hm.’ He slid it into a pocket and raised his wand. Suddenly he paused. ‘Valuable to whom?’ 

You clenched your jaw, unwilling to betray any of your compatriots. 

‘Tell me.’ Lucius’s voice was soft; deadly soft. He had not lowered his wand, and his hand was steady.


	2. Grey Eyes & Black Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the confrontation escalates & you realize that nothing is over yet.

‘No.’ Your resolve hardened. The afternoon sunlight had turned the waterfall to liquid gold, and a steady wind blew the spray back into the cave, spotting your clothes with water. ‘Why should I tell you?’ Slowly your hand crept down to the pocket where your wand was concealed. Centimeter by centimeter your hope grew. 

‘I am growing very tired of your little game.’ Lucius sneered. ‘Incarcarous.’

You gasped as ropes materialized, snaking around your body and tightening until the rough material cut painfully into the exposed skin of your wrists and ankles. Suddenly unbalanced you fell to the ground and the slick rock floor bruised your side. Biting back a groan of pain you stared up at Malfoy. 

‘I would leave you here,’ there was cruelty in his eyes, ‘but…’ His expression was inscrutable, and the light was quickly fading. 

‘But what?’ you asked breathlessly, desperately playing for time as you strained against the ropes holding you. Your fingers closed around your wand. 

‘You intrigue me.’ 

‘No doubt I intrigue all the rest of He Who Must Not Be Named’s cronies too.’ you spat venomously. 

Lucius’s grey eyes glinted dangerously. ‘I would advise that you watch your tongue or I may change my mind.’ 

But that was all the time you needed. ‘Relashio--!’ you muttered, and the ropes reluctantly loosened and fell away. You scrambled to your feet, raising your wand at the same time he did. ‘Flipendo!’ you yelled the first thing that came to mind. Lucius stumbled backwards, momentarily knocked off his guard. ‘Stupefy!’ you cried, the sound echoing and echoing around the cave. 

His eyes widened then, against his will, fell shut as he swayed on his feet. As if in slow motion you watched him fall to the ground and lie there motionless. ‘I’m surprised at you,’ you whispered, ‘to be defeated so easily.’ Cautiously you crept up to his side and extracted the parcel from his pocket. As you did so his coat shifted, one sleeve pulled upwards. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but the sight of the Dark Mark etched onto his forearm still jolted your heart and sent a shiver running down your spine. For a moment you lingered there, looking down at it.

A frown flashed across your face and then you were running, plunging into the darkness of a tunnel at the back of the cave. You didn’t pause to cast Lumos as you fled, and the sound of the waterfall faded until you could hear it no more. Your heartbeat and the harsh reverberations of your footsteps off the black stone floor were the only sounds. 

Out of breath and panting you finally felt cool air on your face and a moment later pale sunlight signaled the end of the passageway. Your face was streaked with dirt and sweat.

As you emerged the sun dipped below the horizon in a blaze of color. In the east the thin crescent moon was already rising in a pale green sky. As the air cooled and the crickets began to wake, you had the horrible feeling that you were being hunted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short!


	3. Familiar Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concerning an owl.

Your sleep was troubled that night, haunted by worries that took on grotesque faces and chased you until you woke up out of breath, your heart hammering in your ears. Passing a hand over your eyes you still felt the shadow over you, paling the morning sunlight. Even as dawn drove the memory of nightmares from your mind the vision of a Dark Mark stayed clear. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Something was at the window, rapping on the glass. The blood froze in your veins and you grasped your wand, sliding out from under the bed sheets. Still fully dressed you crept over and peered through the curtains. A large tawny owl was sitting on the window sill, its bright eyes fixed on you. There was a parchment tied to one leg. Reluctantly you drew aside the curtains, opened the window, and carefully took the letter from the bird. It didn’t fly away as you untied the scarlet ribbon, unrolled the paper, and began to read. 

‘Go-between captured, encounter in cave was a trap. Unsure who set it. You must carry the burden yourself. Seek Alexandrus Ferrand. He will tell you more. Be swift! You must not fail.’ 

Birds lifted their voices and their song carried on the morning breeze. With numb fingers you folded the parchment and put it in your pocket, deaf to the cheerful warblers and pipits. Still the owl watched you, waiting for an answer. 

With a sigh you walked to your desk and scribbled a brief message of acceptance on a torn piece of paper. Tying it to the owl’s leg you felt your heart grow heavy. ‘I don’t know what I carry, but… I choose to do this.’ Straightening your shoulders you watched as the owl tilted its head to one side, blinking slowly. Then it turned and with a beat of its great wings leapt into the sky.

‘Alexandrus Ferrand. The name is familiar.’ you mused as you closed the window. Kneeling on the floor beside the bed you ran your fingers over the wood until you felt a small crack. Gripping it with your fingertips you lifted up the loose section of floorboard. Inside was a small wooden chest with copper bands and a brass lock. Placing your hand over the keyhole you closed your eyes and whispered a few words under your breath. There was a soft click and the lock spang open. Opening the lid you drew out a battered, leather-covered journal and flipped through the pages. 

‘Ah hah!’ you exclaimed at last, finger marking an entry. ‘Alexandrus Ferrand. Sympathetic to the cause. Keeper of the Stones. Can be found at the Blue Rose pub, Wiltshire.’ Committing the information to memory you replaced the book and withdrew a familiar parcel, the wrapping a bit worse for wear. Curious, you pressed it gently. It was hard beneath your fingers. Whatever it was was inside a narrow box. Shaking your head you set it down and began to pack a satchel. You didn’t know how long you’d be gone. 

-

The Blue Rose was, quite frankly, unimpressive. It was old, and looked it. Dimly lit by candles and with soot stains on the ceiling, its chief decoration was the row of paintings on the back wall; in which sunflowers nodded rather lethargically. You stepped inside, scanning the small crowd of witches and wizards for someone who looked like they could be called Alexandrus Ferrand, Keeper of the Stones. Instead your eyes fell on the back of a man who seemed to be sharply questioning the long-bearded barkeeper. He had an air of aloofness and disgust about him. Then you recognized the long blonde hair and silver-handled cane. The weight in your pocket suddenly seemed much heavier.

Stifling a gasp you hurriedly turned and ducked outside, fervently hoping that he hadn’t seen you. Pausing only a moment to look around, you slipped around a corner of the building and waited, watching. 

It felt like ages had passed before you finally heard the door of the pub open and saw Lucius Malfoy step out. He sniffed the air and smoothed down his coat as if to wipe away the taint of those he deemed as lesser. There was poorly disguised anger and hatred on his face. 

Mystified and worried you watched him pass by. As he walked past the shadowy corner where you stood he paused, as if sensing that someone was watching him. You froze, hardly daring to breathe. His eyes narrowed, but his gaze passed over where you stood and he walked on. 

As soon as Lucius was out of sight you re-entered the Blue Rose, shaken but still resolved. Making your way over to the barkeep you kept your voice down as you asked, ‘Have you seen anyone named Alexandrus Ferrand today?’ 

A change instantly came over the friendly face. A look of distrust filled his eyes. ‘You know that gentleman who just left asked the same thing.’ One of his hands was beneath the counter, and you knew that he was gripping a wand. 

‘Oh.’ Sickly worry grew within you. ‘But you don’t understand, I’m not like him, I’m-- Please, I need to find Mr Ferrand.’ 

The barkeep eyed you, stroking his long grey bead. ‘Alright.’ He leaned in. ‘He left here not half an hour ago, heading out to his cottage in the country.’ 

‘Where’s that?’

‘A mile from the edge of the city. Follow the main road north until you see a narrow forest track on the right hand side. It looks overgrown but that’s an illusion. Just follow that and you’ll find it right enough.’ 

Then a sudden fear struck you. ‘What did you tell the man who asked before me?’ 

The barkeep hesitated, shuddering. ‘I told him the same thing.’ he said quietly, regret dripping from his voice. ‘He threatened me and my family if I didn’t…’ He shook his head. 

Your eyes widened. There wasn’t any more time. Like Malfoy you went outside and found a concealed place in the alley. Squeezing your eyes shut you gave in to the uncomfortable feeling of Apparition. 

-

The barkeep’s instructions rang true. You were out of breath as you ran up the dirt track leading to Ferrand’s cottage. A plume of smoke was rising in the distance above the trees -- too much to be from a fireplace. The satchel was weighing you down but you couldn’t pause to take it off, rushing blindly forward. Your legs burned, your lungs burned, your throat burned from sucking in air. 

A horrible cry rent the air, rising with the smoke and bringing tears to your eyes. 

It was too late. 

You stopped just inside a large clearing. A once-pristine cottage, surrounded by verdant garden, was in flames. Tongues of orange and red licked at the blue sky, and their crackling sounded like mocking laughter. 

Alexandrus Ferrand lay on the ground, unmoving.

Standing in stark relief against the blaze was a tall figure in black. 

Lucius Malfoy turned slowly to look at you, and his smile matched the laughter of the flames. ‘Owls can be very unreliable, can’t they.’


	4. More Questions Than Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which your fears are realized.

The heat of the noonday sun, set in the cloudless sky like a great citrine gemstone, was outdone by the scorching flames that devoured the cottage and warped the air. 

‘What have you done!’ your throat felt tight, and you choked on smoke. ‘Why did you burn it?’

Lucius Malfoy raised an eyebrow. ‘I would not stoop to that level.’ He folded his hands over the head of his cane. ‘He burned it himself.’ 

You frowned, mistrustful and confused. Taking a deep breath you prepared to disapparate, desperate to get help -- but you hesitated. ‘Did you kill him?’

Lucius laughed. ‘Oh no.’ A sardonic smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. 

‘But--’ Your gaze flicked over to the still motionless body of Alexandrus Ferrand. Now you could see that he was breathing. 

‘I have what I need to know. Petrificus Totalis!’ 

You felt your body stiffen and snap into rigidity. All you could do was close your eyes as you toppled to the ground. The sky arched blue and cloud-streaked above you as you strained your vision to try and see the other wizard. 

‘By the time this curse wears off your little mission will have failed.’ his tone was viciously mocking. As he spoke he strode over to you and bent down. His grey eyes reminded you of steel -- hard and cold. His long fingers brushed against your arm as he slipped his hand into your pocket and withdrew the parcel. ‘Tsk, so careless…’ He smiled at your glare. Straightening up he nonchalantly peeled away the brown wrapping to reveal a thin wooden box. ‘To think that something so small can serve so great a purpose.’ he mused. 

Alexandrus stirred, groaning. 

Lucius’s head snapped in his direction. ‘Quiet!’ he ordered, ‘I don’t relish torturing you.’ Silence answered him, and he turned back towards you. He opened the box and carefully withdrew a single orb that looked like it was made of pink glass. It shone in the sunlight and as he held it up to examine it it seemed to produce its own light. It fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. Lucius tucked it into a hidden pocket of his shirt. ‘I think I will be more careful than you.’ 

A charred wooden beam of what used to be the cottage collapsed and fell into the ashes with a crash, sending the flock of birds in a nearby tree into the air with a panicked flutter of wings.

‘Perhaps it would be best if you did not remember this.’ Lucius raised his wand and you closed your eyes, mentally bracing yourself.

But you felt nothing. Your memories remained intact, and you didn’t hear him speak. Hesitantly you reopened your eyes and looked up at him. Your satchel was digging uncomfortably into your back. 

He himself seemed surprised as he lowered his wand. The effects of Petrificus Totalis were beginning to lessen, and your clenched jaw relaxed infinitesimally. 

‘Curious.’ he spoke almost to himself. The depths of his eyes swirled like storm clouds. ‘You are an intelligent woman.’ he said suddenly. ‘Surely you must see how misguided you are.’ 

Your eyes widened angrily. 

Lucius raised a hand. ‘Do you wish to see the Wizarding World ruled by the Blue Rose?’

For a moment your resolve faltered, and he seized the moment. 

‘Think of who you could be…” 

Visions of luxury and glory flashed before your eyes. 

‘Or would you rather be like him?’ Lucius nodded towards the pitiful form of Alexandrus. ‘It’s never too late to change your mind.’ With a last, surprisingly sincere, look he disappeared. 

You closed your eyes, feeling the sun burn your face as it travelled across the sky. Hopelessness and despair tugged at your heart, but his words kept echoing in your mind.


	5. The Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are revealed and doubts surface.

‘Well I am sorry you had to find me like this.’ Alexandrus Ferrand said ruefully as you helped him sit up. Outwardly he didn’t appear to be injured, only very tired and sore. Leaning back with a sigh against a thick tree trunk he stared at the charred remains of his home. 

‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ you were dusting yourself off and let your satchel slip down onto the ground beside you. 

‘Oh yes.’ Alexandrus smiled, and there was a lively twinkle in his brown eyes. ‘Now,’ the smile dropped away and he became grave, ‘you must get the Stone back. But first you must know what it is and why it’s needed. Sit down -- I must be brief.’ 

The grass beneath the tree was green and lush, and it was smooth beneath your palms as you lowered yourself down onto it. The speckled shade was a relief after lying out beneath the sun. ‘Alright.’ 

‘I’m sorry that this must be entrusted to you, but there’s no time for a change of plan. No time…’ he shook his head as if to clear it. ‘There is powerful magic against apparition within two or three miles of the place, so if you hurry you can still reach it before Malfoy does.’

‘Reach what?’

‘Forgive me, I’m getting ahead of myself.’ Alexandrus chuckled. ‘Firstly, I was the one who sent the owl, and gave you this task to begin with.’ 

Your eyes widened. ‘You mean you’re the head of the group, the organizer?’ 

Alexandrus nodded slowly. ‘Yes, ‘tis I. That’s unimportant now since Malfoy and the others of his ilk don’t know it. What matters is the Stone.’ he lowered his voice as if the very leaves and insects were listening. ‘It is very old, so old that even the wisest of Wizards of old did not remember its making. It has lain hidden until now.’ He stopped, clearing his throat and wincing as he tried to make himself more comfortable. ‘I was entrusted with it before you, for in my possession I have -- had -- other Stones of its kind; but smaller and less powerful. They have been hidden or destroyed, and I set my own home alight to destroy that information. Although I fear it was too late for that anyway.’ A spasm of sorrow crossed his face. 

‘What will the Stone do?’ 

‘Destroy them all.’ Alexandrus Ferrand’s voice turned harsh and cold. ‘The will of its bearer decides the fate of the Wizarding World.’ His dark eyes pierced your own, the look uncomfortable and searching. ‘The place I spoke of before is Sillbury Hill. You will find it in Avebury. In that Hill there is an entrance that only one holding the Stone can see -- and once that entrance is opened nothing can close it again.’ 

‘And inside?’

Alexandrus no longer sounded like an injured man. His voice had grown strong, but what supported it was anger and hatred. ‘A stone dais, with a place carved for the Stone. Place that inside and all that is judged evil and is imbued with magic will be destroyed.’ His eyes shone. ‘Good will triumph over evil, light over darkness, and you are the key. If Malfoy succeeds or you lose faith only the Stone itself will be destroyed, for it cannot bear to be in the hands of those it deems impure.’ 

A wave of emotion crashed over you. ‘Destroy them?’

‘All. It knows no mercy. Even those associated with them it will touch, though not as harshly. Without that the pure-blooded, power-hungry regime of Voldemort will succeed, for we are too weak to match them. Go now!’ And his head lolled back against the bark of the tree, his eyes closed in unwilling sleep. 

Slowly you rose from the grass, but left your satchel behind. You wouldn’t need its contents for this journey. ‘All of them, killed… It’s extermination that would make us worse than them!’ The sunlight suddenly felt colder and less friendly. Looking down at the old man at your feet you were struck by the sudden thought that perhaps they were all wrong. The bungling Muggles in the city streets interfering with Wizarding affairs, the new influx of half-bloods and Muggle-borns that degraded age-old institutions by rejecting tradition and brought in outside influences… It grew tiring, and would all be so much easier with a strong leader to regulate it all. 

Then a shiver ran down your spine as the memory of a Dark Mark, inky-black on pale skin, surfaced. Hounded by a sense of urgency but unable to ignore the new conflict in your heart, you took one last glance around you.

Then you disapparated, your destination Avebury.


	6. Silbury Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is light and darkness.

You stumbled on rough sun-warmed concrete, almost falling before you flung out your arms to regain your balance. Hastily stepping off the country lane onto the grass and weeds at the side of the road you stopped to listen. There was no sound of cars approaching, only the wind whispering in a stand of distant trees and occasional birdsong. There was no sign of Lucius Malfoy.

Thoughts from earlier still burned in your mind. ‘Can I be responsible for the deaths of so many people?’ With a shudder you set out at a rapid pace, eyes forever fixed on the road ahead. 

It wasn’t long before you saw it in the distance. A large, nondescript grassy mound that rose above the gently undulating landscape of Wiltshire. As you drew closer you could see another figure walking up the side road that led to the Hill. You broke into a sprint, back on the road, and the blacktop was hard beneath your shoes. Soon an ache in your feet joined the burning in your legs and lungs.

Lucius obviously hadn’t counted on you following him, for you finally overtook him at the shabby wire fence at the foot of Silbury Hill. The road itself continued to curve up and around to a field on the other side of the Hill, but the swiftest way was to pass through a short wooden gate in the fence and trudge across the grass.

Lucius heard you coming and whipped around to face you, a surprised expression on his face. It was quickly smoothed over, replaced by narrow curiosity. ‘You’re very persistent.’ One hand had flown up to his chest, covering the Stone in his breast pocket. 

‘Yes,’ you were short of breath, and longed to sit and rest. ‘But I have a duty--’ you were cut off, mouth falling open as he turned and ran. ‘Stop!’ you shouted and followed, slipping on the long grass. Lucius was faster than you had expected, and the gap between you remained steady. He reached the foot of the Hill first, and without slowing his pace began to circle around it. 

Desperate, you followed him. There was no-one else around so no-one saw a rectangular section of earth cleave away from the Hill and pull back as if on a hinge. It settled silently, a few trickles of soil running down and pattering on the grass. 

When you arrived a few moments later, panting, Lucius was nowhere in sight. The doorway was broad and tall, revealing a long stone-lined passageway leading to the center of the mound. A strange blue light flickered like torchlight in the darkness, and you hesitated only a moment before plunging in. 

The passage wasn’t long. Your footsteps echoed and re-echoed loudly as you ran. Abruptly the corridor widened and opened into a large domed room. Carvings of white marble lined the walls, the figures of ancient Wizards, and boldly swirling designs inlaid with gold ran around the ceiling. In the center of the room, standing out against the smooth granite floor, was an undecorated obsidian dais. It seemed to swallow any light that came near it. 

The shining blue light came from the Stone. It was cupped in Lucius’s palm, and the glow illuminated his face in sharp lines and shadows. He was smiling; a triumphant look that reached his eyes. 

‘It will be destroyed.’ he said softly, but his words seemed loud nonetheless, amplified by the room. 

Breathless, despairing, you rallied your courage. ‘I will never let you hold such power over us.’ And as he scoffed and turned away you watched as if in a dream as you lunged forward. His hand moved inexorably forward, and the Stone pulsed brighter as it descended towards the carved hollow in the center of the dais. 

A gasp left your lips as your body collided with Malfoy’s. The Stone slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor with a clank louder than its small size belied, rolling away and sending shadows careening across the walls. 

You were falling, hands clutching at Lucius’s coat for support. He had cried out, startled, and a hiss of pain left his lips when the two of you crashed down onto the cold floor. 

Your eyes fixed on the Stone. 

‘Wait.’ Lucius Malfoy’s voice held you back just as you prepared to lunge for it. 

You hurriedly moved back so you weren’t lying on top of him. ‘What?’ 

He sat up slowly and with a dignified air rose to his feet. ‘Why don’t we discuss this?’ He proffered a hand for you to take. 

A frown settled on your brow. ‘Why?’ Nevertheless you took his hand, and he helped you stand back up. His grip was firm but not threatening, and he released you as soon as you were steady. 

His grey eyes and pale blonde hair seemed to glow in the fey blue light. ‘I believe we aren’t so different.’ Lucius raised a hand to halt your protest. ‘I know you doubt.’ 

Suspicion and a spark of anger blossomed in your mind. ‘I am not like you.’ But you couldn’t deny your doubts. 

‘No.’ And for a moment the arrogance fell away. ‘But there are lives at stake, and this is no time for petty quarrels.’ Lucius leaned forward. ‘It must be destroyed.’ 

‘I know.’ and your voice was quiet. You met his eyes, matched his gaze. ‘I can’t be a murderer -- don’t want to be. But I could never join you and the responsibility rests on me…’ 

‘You have been tempted.’ He raised an eyebrow. 

‘Yes.’ You clenched your jaw, and suddenly felt very alone. ‘Why haven’t you just gotten me out of the way and destroyed it then?’ 

Now it was his turn to pause. A cold breeze blew in from outside, but carried with it neither light, smell, or sound. ‘I don’t know.’ he admitted, which was a very unusual thing for him to do. It felt as though he was searching your soul, seeking for an answer, and laying his open also. 

Your frown deepened and your thoughts raged, making you feel almost feverish. ‘Lucius Malfoy I wish we hadn’t met like this.’ a momentary sadness that you couldn't explain weighed on you heavily.

‘So do I.’ He reached out and touched your hand for one fleeting moment and it felt like a spark ran through your veins, making your heart beat even faster. ‘Now you must make your choice.’ his voice hardened and his face was unreadable as he stepped back; a step closer to the Stone. 

Taking a deep breath you lunged for it once more, fingers outstretched. Faintly you heard Lucius pronouncing a spell, but nothing happened and the statues that lined the walls seemed to laugh. 

Your hand closed around the smooth orb, and it fit perfectly in your palm.


	7. Choices

A deep sense of calm washed over you and it felt as though your limbs were imbued with new strength. Rising to your feet you glanced back at Lucius Malfoy. He had stopped mid-stride and was watching you closely. His wand had dropped to the floor and his wand-hand was clenched as if in pain. 

The eyes of the statues gleamed green and ebony. Your gaze was drawn to the dais; free of even the slightest scratch. The Stone was heavy in your fingers. ‘I must do it.’ Your voice sounded unnatural even to your own ears -- cold and detached. 

Lucius was moving forward slowly. ‘What will you do?’ 

Your eyes snapped up to meet his. ‘I don’t know.’ Your heart quailed, and the Stone shone brightly between your fingers. Its smooth surface had grown hot, but even when it began to burn your skin you refused to drop it. ‘I don’t understand--’ 

The Stone began to pulse rhythmically, like a heartbeat, and suddenly a voice spoke in your mind. ‘You were not meant to wield such power,’ it whispered, ‘and this Hill, resting place of the Stone, was not meant to hear living voices again.’ 

You were unsure if you were still moving towards the dais or not, for your vision was obscured by blue-tinted mist that swirled before your eyes. 

‘Do what thou wilt.’ The voice was stronger, louder, ‘but be true to thyself or thou shalt be destroyed in thy turn.’ 

Your vision cleared and you found yourself staring down at the round hollow in the center of the dais. Lucius stood beside you but he made no move to take the Stone. A heavy silence had settled over the room, and the air was thick and stifling. You raised the Stone and held it over the dais. 

For a moment you saw your hands run red with blood and you drew in a choking gasp. You blinked and the vision disappeared, only to be replaced by the image of Death Eaters murdering innocents, their screams echoing in your ears. Tears ran down your face as that too faded. The Stone seemed glued to your palm; you couldn’t toss it aside even if you had wanted to. 

Fingers touched your arm; warm, real, and comforting. ‘No-one can stop you. Go ahead.’ It was Lucius’s voice, quiet and resigned. He had picked up his wand again.

Your tears still fell, like gentle rain on a summer’s morn. ‘Why did it have to be us?’ your voice was a ragged whisper, and you lowered the Stone towards the hollow. Lucius’s hand was still on your arm. 

Blue light flashed like lightning when the Stone settled into the dais, and you threw an arm over your eyes to shield them. A fierce, howling wind rose outside and rushed down the passageway, chilling you to the bone. 

With a sick cracking noise the jaws of the statues fell open and as one voice they declared, ‘Thou hast made thy choice. The Stone hath been returnéd and shall be seen no more!’

Fractures raced out from the Stone, and the obsidian dais crumbled to dust. The blue light was suddenly snuffed out and you were plunged into terrified darkness. The floor seemed to rock beneath your feet, and you stumbled blindly. 

A cry of agony, horribly human, rose and fell above the wind and the sound of shattering stone. You looked around wildly but all you saw were glittering eyes that stared fixedly back at you, and even those blinked out one by one like stars swallowed by clouds. 

Something hot and wet ran down into your eyes, stinging, and phantom laughter filled your ears. ‘Blood! Blood! Murderer!’ You realized you were the one speaking. 

Falling stone echoed thunderously as the walls and ceiling of the chamber collapsed around you. “Run!” your thoughts urged. 

But your mind slipped into darkness and you saw and heard no more.


	8. Afternoon Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C'est finit.   
> (Thank you for reading! :D)

Someone was carrying you. A groan left your lips as you awoke and became aware of the pain that throbbed in your forehead and palm. 

‘Hush now, don’t speak.’ The voice was familiar.

‘The Stone-- the voices--’

‘You are beyond the reach of the Guardians of the Stone.’ Strong arms lowered you down onto a soft bed, and the warmth of a blanket covered your body. 

You still couldn’t find the strength to open your eyes. After a moment you felt a damp cloth being run across your forehead. You winced. ‘Hurts--’ 

‘I know. You were hit by a piece of falling stone.’ The sound of the cloth being rinsed in a basin and pressed back on your forehead. ‘Episkey’. Pain eased as fingers gently pushed your hair back and a bandage was placed on your forehead.

Sleep took you once more. 

-

Someone was saying your name, and it drew you out of troubled dreams. You opened your eyes slowly, and was met by the sight of Lucius Malfoy sitting at your bedside; concern in his grey eyes. 

‘What?’ you couldn’t find more eloquent words. ‘But you’re dead, I killed you…’ 

He shook his head, leaning back and crossing his legs. ‘No.’ Late afternoon sunlight streamed in through a window and shone on his face. Shadows had begun to gather in the corners of the room.

‘Then what happened?’ Your throat felt dry and swollen. There was a glass of crystalline water on the bedside table. You reached for it and let the refreshing liquid soothe your mouth.

Lucius paused for a moment. ‘I think your pity won out over your duty.’

You frowned. ‘You mean I started to-- but then my purpose changed and the Stone was destroyed?’ 

He nodded. 

You drew in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it with a sigh. ‘Thank you for saving me anyway.’ Your eyes were fixed on your hands. The palm that had held the Stone was reddened and burnt. ‘It wasn’t just pity and humanity.’ you said very quietly. 

‘What do you mean?’ 

You bit your lip. ‘After this I’ll be viewed as a traitor. I let everyone down.’ Tears threatened to well up in your eyes, but you forced them back. ‘And you know I can never join you.’

Lucius raised his eyebrows. 

‘I don’t know, I can’t put it into words. But I don’t want to be parted from you. I must, but that doesn’t change the way I feel--’ You looked up at him; hoping, despairing, exhausted. 

Lucius was silent, his face blank. Then he closed his eyes, lowering his head. ‘You are aware that would be the ruin of us both.’ 

You nodded even though he couldn’t see it. ‘Yes.’ 

Opening his eyes he took your hands in his. A small smile was on his lips. ‘Someday, in a different time, we can meet again at that cave behind the waterfall.’ 

Cold tears crept down your cheeks. ‘Someday.’ Your lips trembled and he steadied them with a kiss.


End file.
